Endless Rain
by Riona
Summary: JakTorn. Going on a mission with the ultimate enigma provokes unusual conversations...


~Endless Rainfall~

---

How had he let himself be talked into this?

Jak sat silently on the ledge, his back against the inside of the bridge. The concrete was cold, and damp, but he didn't seem to notice. Just kept sitting, the Peacemaker on his lap, glaring ahead of him at something that wasn't there.

He didn't have to look at him to know that Torn would be at the entrance of the tunnel under the bridge, one hand on the wet concrete, squinting out into the pouring rain. The two of them had been on mission after mission together. Jak probably knew all of his mannerisms perfectly by now.

"We can't go out yet." Torn's voice, right on cue. "The visibility's terrible. We go out there, we get slaughtered." He glared at Jak, as if daring him to disagree. The blond boy looked briefly at him, then back to the wall.

"...I know."

Torn's eyes widened slightly. Jak registered this surprise with a brief glance, barely concealing his smirk. _He still thinks I'm a monster, doesn't he? Or else he's so used to Daxter being here that he can't remember the last time he was able to say something _without_ it being challenged..._

That was the difference now, of course. Daxter had been here on their other missions, always cursing the Metal Heads or making sarcastic remarks to Jak. But now Daxter was off doing something 'real important, seeya Jak!' – probably bashing Metal Heads in the bar or trying to pick up women with his 'fuzzy charm' – and that left Jak alone with the bitter leader of the Underground, going to investigate a reported Metal Head attack without his friend.

Admittedly the cynical ottsel wasn't the greatest of help in a battle, but Jak missed his company. Missed the one person who cared about him, reminding him of a time when he wasn't... less than human. When he helped friendly people with simple tasks, like a normal kid. When it wasn't his job to kill.

Torn leant against the damp wall, arms folded as he watched his partner. Jak was scowling furiously, his lips moving slightly without sound. He was gripping the Peacemaker incredibly tightly, seeming not to notice the way that the ornamental spikes that adorned it were digging into his palms.

Couldn't he even feel pain?

Jak had always been something of a curiosity to Torn. Sure, he didn't exactly like the kid, but he had to admit that he was an... interesting individual. Being friends with a talking rat (how in all hell did _that_ happen, anyway?) was only the start of it. He had issues of every conceivable kind, as far as Torn could make out. He'd apparently been thrown into this city from a pretty little place called Sandover, something to do with some weird gate thing - both Jak and his irritating companion seemed reluctant to say anything about what happened after that.

And just when you started to feel that you knew something about him, that perhaps he wasn't quite so unreadable as first you thought... he would do or say something that threw you utterly off track. Force you to re-evaluate him completely.

Jak was the very epitome of unpredictability.

It bothered Torn a little. He never really felt secure around Jak – always felt that the guy was going to shoot him in the back, maybe, if he let his guard down for even a second. Didn't know _anything _about the blond, and it made him incredibly uncomfortable.

"Who _are_ you?"

He hadn't really meant to ask the question, and he hoped that his expression didn't betray the horror he had felt at hearing himself speak. He generally tried to stay quiet around Jak, apart from mission-related talk, for fear of provoking the transformation into the terrifying purple-and-white beast. Torn had seen it only twice before, but that was more than enough.

But no – Jak merely glanced up, scanning him with an inscrutable expression before looking away again. He remained silent for such a long time that Torn almost forgot the original question, and was startled when at last Jak spoke.

"...It doesn't matter. We've got a mission to focus on."

Normally, Torn would have merely nodded and left it at that. But he was frustrated and angry. He had been trapped under a bridge for over two hours, soaking wet, with the rainfall outside so heavy that they could have been surrounded by any number of deadly Metal Heads without knowing it. He was stuck with a man whom he would not, under normal circumstances, trust with anything. _Anything_. And yet Jak was the person (monster?) that was supposed to keep him covered if he were to be attacked.

He was trusting Jak with his life, and the only thing that Torn knew about him was his first name.

"The mission can wait. I want to know who the hell you are."

Jak looked a little taken aback, and Torn was inexplicably proud of managing to actually provoke an emotion from him. After the brief moment of surprise, Jak's eyes narrowed and he looked back to the wall. Avoiding eye contact.

"...I can't tell you who I am."

Torn began to say something, but Jak cut him off.

"I can't tell you who I am..." he repeated, "...because _I don't know_. I knew once. I was a hero once." He gestured towards himself with his left hand, the right still gripping the Peacemaker. "_This_ is not a hero."

"You're saving the city."

Jak began to laugh at that; a soft, cold sound that sent shivers down Torn's spine. "Saving."

"That's what we do."

He set the gun aside and stood, turning to regard Torn, a mirthless smirk on his lips. "Do you know how many civilians I've killed today?"

The tattooed man shifted uncomfortably. "It had to be done. For the greater good."

Jak folded his arms, staring impassively. "Are you really so deluded that you believe we're actually doing this '_for the greater good_'?" He shook his head. "I'm not doing this out of any _dedication_ to the city. I'm only looking for revenge."

Torn was becoming increasingly furious. He stepped forward and opened his mouth to speak, but Jak cut him off again with a dismissive wave of his hand.

"And don't say that _you're_ only working for the _'good of the city'_," he said angrily. "I'm tired of it. Nobody does anything in this place just to help other people. You've got some other motive. I just don't know what it is yet."

"In case you haven't noticed," snarled Torn, stalking furiously towards Jak, "not everyone... is as _selfish_... as _you._"

"Of _course _not," said Jak, mock-patronising. "Torn, nobody here cares about _anyone_ else. I don't care about these people. I don't care about _you. _And _you_ don't care about -"

He hadn't even registered how close they were standing. Hadn't even registered that Torn was so close that he could kiss him, easily, gripping Jak by the tunic and pulling him forwards. And when Torn did kiss him, he couldn't register _anything_ _else_.

It was not a loving kiss. But it was furious, and passionate, and painful, and it made Jak _feel_ in a way that he had not since he underwent the experimentation. He had thought that the Dark Eco had numbed his emotions. Now he saw that he had simply had no cause to experience them.

They stood together beneath the bridge, eyes half-closed, fingers tangled in still-damp hair.

And still the rain fell.


End file.
